fervere

Chapter Five

Astoria’s hands clenched, her perfectly manicured nails clawing into the armrest of her chair. Across from Astoria was Draco who had found himself pacing slowly around as he waited for Daphne to come down from her dorm. The sudden interest in the pair was received with curiosity by the surge of gossip surrounding Draco. Many speculated that it was a well kept secret and that Draco and Daphne had been intending to go with each other since the very start. It was not well received by Astoria who nearly wanted to claw her sister’s eyes out but was conflicted because it was, after all, her sister.  

Draco tried to pretend the intricacies of having a sister but he fell short with fully understanding, as he was an only child and a male one at that. Daphne had tried to explain it to him the morning of the Yule Ball when he readied himself to go to Hogsmeade (with special permission from Snape). It seemed for a moment that Daphne was second guessing going with him, but Draco ensured it was nothing but platonic. He simply needed a date.  

Daphne gave him a single nod and presumably went back up to the Girl’s Dorm to console her sister. 

Later that day, Draco was able to find a few dresses in Hogsmeade he thought would suit Daphne. She was never one for flashy colors nor whimsical fabrics. It was as easy as walking in the dress shop, pointing at a few dresses, and asking them to place them under his parents' account. 

The dresses were to be delivered right after lunch, along with a house elf to help with any alterations.  

It was one of the few times Draco was truly thankful that the influence of a Malfoy was something he could benefit from.  

Later that evening, Astoria, eyes filled with envy, watched her sister disappear upstairs with an armful of choices while Draco left to his own dorm to get ready himself. By the time his hair had been magicked into a side part swoop and his pressed dress robes showed no signs of imperfections, he walked back to the common room dressed. A few first and second years watched on, saddened at the fact that they weren’t able to attend. Most of the third years had snuck off to have their own unofficial party of their own.  

Astoria lingered behind, in her own violent pink dress, waiting for Goyle. Draco did Astoria the favor to impart the news that Goyle was currently singing in the shower and he shouldn’t really take too long to get ready.  

Draco smirked at his own thoughts, "Goyle never really takes long at anything."  

The deathly glares Draco got from Astoria made him think that perhaps it was not the best idea to take Daphne but the depth in which he cared was minimal. His intentions were not to romance the pants off of Daphne, otherwise, anyone could have filled that role. Draco needed someone as uncaring as he was and by the looks of it, Astoria cared a bit too much to keep it simple.  

Still, Draco wasn’t immune to the awkwardness that the situation brought Astoria's mood circled from anger to envy and very quickly to big fat watery eyes that she averted away from him which was always followed by a sniffle. Draco wasn’t even sure if he should address it at all. Still he thought perhaps a compliment would lessen the tension.  

“That’s a very vivid pink,” Draco pointed out. Astoria quickly looked down at her dress and Draco immediately realized he wasn’t the best at compliments. Her face contorted, shielding herself from showing too much pink. 

“It’s a lovely shade on you,” Draco finished off, hoping it wasn’t too misleading. Astoria had barely slipped out a ‘ thanks’ , relaxing at Draco’s openness, when she was overshadowed once more.  

Daphne finally appeared at the top of the girl’s staircase pulling Draco’s attention away from Astoria. He stared as she slowly descended from the stairs her fingers gracefully ghosting over the handrail. As poised as she was, her face held a hint of hesitation as if she was taking careful consideration of each step she took.  

Despite the still awkward air, Draco was impressed.  

She looked perfectly fine in one of the fitted black dresses he found for her. He was told it was a classic mermaid style with a low backline and ostrich feathers that flounce at the bottom. The dress suited Daphne very well. Her honey golden hair had been pinned back revealing her delicate neckline which was adorn with a pearl necklace choker, one with a delicate family jewel a crystal blue diamond as the pendant.  

“Yours?” Draco pointed it out, gulping when his mind jumped over to Wand Whisperers .  

“A family heirloom.” She smiled.  

“It’s nice,” Draco nodded trying to shake off the image of Miss December out of his head.  

“If I told you who made it, you’d take that compliment back.” 

“Who?” 

“Christian Dior.” Daphne winked.  

Draco was pleasantly surprised, “The famous French Squib?” 

“That’s awful to say, Draco,” Daphne let out a light dry laugh, “If you only saw his work when he was still alive, you’d see the traces of magic he had for design. It’s charming. It has the entire muggle population of girls trying to get a piece of his vision.”  

“Family friend?” Draco asked, seeing how passionate she became when talking about a muggle designer.  

Daphne motioned over to her sister, who sat cross armed, still seething with rage being the spectator of their light conversation, “Astoria and I go to France for holidays often to visit mum’s side of the families. You’d be surprised to know the Dior Family absolutely is proud of the work of their non-magical ancestor.” 

Draco let out a lighthearted huff of impression, bowing at Astoria to indicate their departure. He motioned Daphne towards the Dungeon doors and he followed suit, offering his arm so that he would link hers to his.  

Daphne smiled at the gesture, “Sorry if I took a while. The house elf had to shorten the hem, but thank you, Draco. All the dresses you chose were very lovely.” 

He was sure he downplayed the effort it took to get her something decent to wear, but it would be hard to explain that the effort wasn’t for her exactly. It was more self serving in order to be on the look out. Daphne didn’t mind keeping the conversation light, mentioning how lucky Draco was to be able to hop over to Hogsmeade at the last minute or even leave for holiday’s earlier. Draco was going to mention Snape, but he ended up agreeing that he was indeed lucky to have those privileges.  

As they neared the Great Hall, Draco pointed out that it had begun snowing outside as they walked down the corridor lined with the towering arched windows. The gentle fall of the white snow made for a picture-perfect background, the moon casting a glow in areas where the torches were far out of their reach 

Daphne touched her earlobe nervously when Draco had watched the snow for a moment too long. 

“I didn’t peg you as a romantic Draco.” She cleared her throat, “I’m a little shocked if I’m honest with you.” 

All Draco could really do was shake his head in protest. He hadn’t intended to romanticize her evening in hopes of anything in return. Daphne snorted and, much to Draco’s relief, he understood she meant to be lighthearted.  

“Not to worry Draco, I know this is strictly business,” She winked, “Well at least I hope it is. I’m sure you can tell how much my sister fancies you. I don’t really intend to make her more feral than she was today.” 

Draco gasped dramatically, brows raised in surprise, “Is that so? You know, a past version of me would have asked her knowing she fancies me if she wasn’t going with Goyle.” 

Draco’s date took a slight pause in her response, just about to vocalize her first thought and then held back.  

“A-,” She narrowed her eyes at me, “A past version of you? What’s so different now?” 

“Nothing,” Draco said far too quickly for Daphne’s suspicions to subside. Instead, she continued to press, still in that manner Draco felt comfortable in.  

“Are you suggesting that before you might have taken advantage of my sister?” Daphne gasped.  

For once Draco didn’t know exactly what to say. He stuttered to come up with a denial, that he wouldn’t have been less than a gentleman but the words were stuck at his throat.  

“I’m joking,” She huffed again, grinning from ear to ears, “You’re really on edge Malfoy. If you’ve changed then that’s that, right? Not like we all stay the same misfits well into our school years. I, for one, am glad you seem to accept the change-” 

“Never said I was glad.” Draco interjected.  

“Why wouldn’t you be?” She cocked her head, “Is it not a good thing?” 

Draco cryptically added, “Not if you knew...” 

Daphne had her focus pulled away from her thoughts and from Draco. He was already to accept the slew of questions that came with being aloof and not forthcoming. There was also an inkling that Daphne was more receptive than most in his house, still, it wasn’t a reason to divulge his secrets to her. Draco felt her body hesitate at the crook of his arm, tugging his next slow step back before she called out.  

“Granger? Is that you?” Daphne cocked her head to the side, as they neared the Grand Stairs that led to the Great Hall. 

Draco’s jaw firmed up.  

Not again.  

When Hermione turned around, a floof of light periwinkle fabric lazily followed her movements, and the shimmer of more skin that should have been acceptable stunned Draco. Even the sheer fabric covering her shoulders wasn’t helping that this was a lot more of Granger that he had ever seen. 

The vision of perfection.  

It took him a moment to collect his scrambled thoughts to study Hermione’s worried face. Her brows were knitted together, her glistening eyes scrunched tightly, and her rosy pair of lips were being chewed on nervously. 

For fuck sakes, Draco thought sensing a hormonal urge. 

Daphne had been comforting her with words, assuring Hermione that her date was possibly running late. Some sort of girl talk that Draco had missed out on while he was indulging in so much skin. 

“Oh but what if,” Hermione gulped looking around, “What if I misunder stood. ” 

Draco scoffed at her, “He may have a thick accent and might have the intelligence the size of a snitch, but he definitely asked you, Granger. Wouldn’t believe it if I didn’t see it myself.” 

Hermione gave him a pointed look which caused him to hyper fixate on the depths of her eyes that he missed the slight pursing of Daphne’s lips that enhanced her curious disposition. Draco realized a bit too late he was smiling almost borderline gushing. Horrified, he cleared his throat while Hermione nervously intertwined her fingers with each other to soothe her nerves. 

“Dra... Malfoy .” She warned, her face now full of light agitation.  

Daphne lightly elbowed her date, “Leave her alone, boys don’t know the half of what it feels like to be on a big date.” 

Hermione let out a sigh and began to fiddle with her necklace, a thin chain of silver with a delicate-looking star pendant. Draco’s eyes averted to her neckline and the exposure of smooth peachy skin. 

“Oh I don’t know...” Hermione hummed out still frantically looking around.  

Daphne elbowed her date again and Draco worried if it had been noticeable that he was staring. All he could really focus on was stars and skin 

Daphne smiled, “Krum would be an absolute fool if he stood her up, right Draco?” 

The nervous girl, looked painfully embarrassed, pink began to dot on her cheeks, “You promised you wouldn’t tell!” 

“He didn’t,” Daphne winked, “I just happen to be a very keen observer. Draco?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Don’t you agree? Granger looks lovely tonight.” Daphne said without a hint of malice, something that Granger picked up on and confused her even more 

“You look,” He gulped back a tinge of fear, “ Appropriate for today . ” 

Daphne snorted at his compliment and rolled her eyes, “What a roundabout way to say she looks beautiful.” 

Hermione kept her eyes on Draco who, for the life of him, couldn’t look her directly in the eye at that moment. It was as if he feared that a prolonged look would make him snap and he’d abandon Daphne in favor of dragging Hermione away so they could seek refuge in the snogging nook. He would tell her she looked more than just appropriate.  

Fucking stunned to submission; his heart screamed. 

“Well,” He began saying, “She already is.” 

Draco gave a curt smile to Daphne as if to say, There, was that enough?  

Daphne pressed her lips together in delight as if she became aware of something. Draco glanced back at Hermione and her incredulous look. She was gobbed in disbelief that he, out of all people, would extend a compliment towards her.  

Draco paused, retracing his words, wondering if it had been an unintentional backhanded compliment until he realized the slight error. Trying not to panic, Draco convinced himself it was just a comment. Nothing more.  

‘Most of the girls at school were decent when they put a bit of effort. It’s the change of their ugly school uniforms that made everyone slightly more appealing. That’s what you meant to say Draco. Everyone looks good because... everyone is already attractive in their own right... Right? Yes. That what I meant.’  

Battling his voices, Draco pulled on a straight face wondering how in the world he was going to do with this new memory. 

“Oh! I think I just saw him going down the stairs, Granger!” Daphne pointed out, “I think we should get going then. It’s almost time, isn’t it? See you inside!” 

“Granger.” Draco bowed his head to excuse themselves. Daphne once again led the conversation, and Draco bit his lip to stop himself from looking back at Hermione as the doors of the Great Hall came into view.  

“Draco?” Daphne said in a way that made had him suspected she had repeated herself and noticed he had stopped listening. Still, he felt lucky that it was easy to be around Daphne and honesty was never a great feat to achieve around her. It was simple to speak his mind. 

“Sorry,” He apologized, “I wasn’t listening to that last part.” 

“Or any part,” She smiled that small lighthearted smile. Draco felt instantly regretful that he was being an awful date.  

“That’s okay,” Daphne lifted her dress up a bit as he helped her down the steps just about to reach the Great Hall. McGonagall was at the door getting a count of what Hogwarts students were attending. Sure enough, Viktor Krum was by the doors of the Great Hall looking for Hermione.  

As much as Draco wished to be in his shoes, he recognized that he was not at all in a bad position. His own date was just as beautiful and easy going. Wasn’t that what he was hoping for on a date anyways?  

They entered the Great Hall and disappeared into the crowd.  

It felt odd for Draco to accept he was just another face in the throng of people, yet it was almost as if a weight was taken off his shoulders, one that he placed on himself. Perhaps a year ago, he would have craved to be the center of attention, but he fully gave up the effort it took to be that extraordinary. After the first task, he didn’t really see how having his head chewed off by a dragon was worth a bit more attention. 

There were many extraordinary things to experience that he was sure would feel the same with or without peacocking around to gain attention. 

Every inch of the Great Hall was shimmering with magic. Above the growing crowd of students hung giant icicles, that glowed in light blues and deep purples. The ceiling was also dark and snowy, matching the weather outside. Sprigs of Mistletoe were charmed to follow pairs in hopes that they would kiss. It became the most entertaining sport to see a few try to swat them away or ignore the mistletoe, even if it hung lower and lower to the point of obstructing their view. 

There were also round tables instead of the usual house tables. Each table was decorated with an eclectic number of white ornaments and white peacock feathers sticking out with bits of what looked like glitter that caught the light of hundreds of lightning beetles that were charmed for a deep sleep as they floated this way and that.  

Although Draco was once in agreement with his father that Hogwarts was painfully ordinary compared to his upbringing, he couldn’t bring himself to agree now. 

When the champions were presented, and the ball began with the opening waltz, Daphne and Draco stood near the back to observe. The silence wasn’t too bad with her. They leaned against the wall and stood on chairs for a better view. The band hired was playing with vigor and the more passionate the music became the more frazzled Potter looked. He smirked. 

Draco had a few comments he would have loved to throw over at Potter and he felt pleased at the ideas floating around in his head, fully knowing he’d get a reaction out of Potter. But then Hermione came into his line of view and the swell of his mischief began to deflate.  

Although they had crossed paths outside of the Great Hall, he still couldn’t help it. He had no qualms, openly gawking as if it was the first time he’d ever laid eyes on Hermione. She was positively glowing as the oaf Krum spun her around, the flounce of her dress floating lazily around her. Her nervous smile she put on for everyone had the same powerful gravitating pull, drawing him in as he began to surrender to his harboring feelings for Hermione.  

Strong or not.   

He fancied her.  

He gulped, reminded of the warnings Professor Snape had given him. 

It was the most liberating feeling to internally acknowledge that this ball of curiosity in his chest was way more than that. Yet, it was already tearing him apart. It was a helpless sort of feeling that his heart was unknowingly in her hands. Draco wished to take back control, but he wouldn’t know where to begin. 

“You’re right. She always has been   beautiful, hasn’t she?” Daphne leaned over to Draco, looking smug as the realization kicked in that he was caught staring. The ease of their silence suddenly felt suffocating for Draco, scrambling to figure a way out of this. To offer an explanation of some sort.  

“Don’t you dare try talk your way around it,” She jumped before Draco could deny, “Not to worry, I won’t say a word.” 

He frowned at her. 

“If you take me out for a dance or two, that is.” She winked.  

That special Daphne ease came flooding back and he had no problem leading her out to the dance floor. However, Draco carefully watched her with the slightest hint of hesitation, but she assured him with a forgiving smile when Draco took her waist. Draco was pleased to know that Daphne was an excellent dance partner, sharing that her parents also had her in dance lessons at a young age.  

“Have your parents mentioned anything about your Sixteenth Reception, yet?” She asked, “Mine are already planning on it. They plan on inviting the whole of the Twenty-Eight. I suppose your family will be invited.” 

Draco spun Daphne around careful not to bump into Potter who still looked on edge, he kept glancing down at his feet every few seconds in hopes to avoid Parvati’s feet. Unfortunately Parvati wasn’t great at hiding her winces when her toes were stepped on. 

Draco smirked, “Don’t you have actual friends to invite?” 

Daphne threw a playful glare, “Ha, ha . I’ll let you know that Astoria and I have a lot of friends in France but mum and dad insist on respectable British families. I fully expect you to be there now that we’re practically friends.” 

“Are we?” Draco blinked.  

Daphne shrugged, “We could be dating. Who knows what gossip will be spread tomorrow. Did you know Rita Skeeter has been writing about the social life here? Kind of intrusive to report our lives in the Daily Prophet. How will we ever hide our engagement?” 

An unbecoming snort came out of Draco from Daphne’s incredible delivery on her sarcasm.  

“Is that so?” Draco raised his brows, wondering if it was reason enough to be extra cautious around Hermione. Wouldn’t want to have him linked with her all over the Daily Prophet. 

“What about you? When is your birthday?” Daphne asked, detaching her hand from his shoulder to swat away a jade beetle that had been buzzing around them.  

“June fifth, but I haven’t really thought about my own Sixteenth Reception,” Draco honestly said, “I don’t really want to think about it if I’m honest. I’m sure my mother already has plenty of ideas up her sleeve. Who to invite, who to select for possible arrangement in the future.” 

Daphne laughed, “What a surprise, a pure blood family wanting to conserve their lineage.” 

Draco smirked, “Is your family any different?” 

Daphne sighed, “No. The practice is annoying ancient, don’t you agree?” 

“And outdated,” He added, “Auctioning us to ensure we breed within our own circles?” 

Daphne rolled her eyes, “My parents pride themselves in being progressive but there’s plenty of things they still stick to.” 

Draco was hit with a realization. Her throw away comment was enough to clue him in that perhaps the reason Daphne could not fully integrate into a friend group in Slytherin was because of ideas like that.  

She was different.  

She still carried herself around like an refined pure-blood. She was poised, elegant, and never a blonde hair out of place. Daphne made sure to never appear anything but polished, a true definition of a Slytherin (except for the fact that she smoked and had a different point of view than most), but her parents’ progressive views gave birth to one who would challenge everything if she had the opportunity. 

“I suppose your family wouldn’t be the worst choice my family could arrange for me,” Draco snorted, just then Daphne stopped and clapped her hands together, killing the beetle buzzing around them instantly. Draco handed her his pocket handkerchief to wipe the guts from her palms. She declined, whipping her wand out to clean the mess up.  

They resumed their dance.  

“Were you upset you couldn’t ask Granger first?” She suddenly asked. Draco’s hand on her waist suddenly felt tense. His eyes darted around in hopes that no one of note had heard her.  

“Daphne...” He warned, frowning in disapproval 

She simply shrugged, “Just wondering. I thought that you might have been, seeing how chummy you both have been recently.” 

Draco scoffed, “There is no chum with Granger. I don’t deny she looks nice tonight but that’s all there is.” 

The music had ended, and before Draco could bow to her, Daphne was already pulling him along out of the thick of the crowd to the drink tables for a bit of refreshments.  

“I think it’s sweet, you and her.” She admitted quitely, once she had a sip of the fizzy lemon water, which only put Draco in a sour mood. She handed him a flute of his own lemon drink and the tart taste had been refreshing enough to twist his face around. Daphne observed him for a moment before slipping a vile into his flute.  

She winked and took out another vile from her cleavage and poured it into her own glass.  

“You know for a moment I thought I was going to have an exceptionally ordinary night with you.” Draco huffed, placing the empty flute and grabbing another.  

Daphne sipped on her cup, watching her date intently, “I don’t think there’s anything wrong in being interested in someone completely unexpected, Draco. Take me for example.” 

“What about you?” He sighed, rolling his eyes, relaxing against the wall. It felt like the vile had finally hit him. A pleasant warmth began to fill his face and he felt relaxed and worst of all, he felt bold.  

“You’d think me mad but Weasley isn’t the worst option out there.” She muttered, smiling into her cup before taking a sip.  

Draco leaned in, whispering, “You’re joking. Which one? Ron ?” 

Feeling a sense of relief when she nodded her head, Draco didn’t feel so alone in harboring feelings in the most unlikely of targets. Daphne placed her finger on her lips, asking him wordlessly to keep it a secret.  

Draco tilted his head lazily to the side, almost as if he was ready for a good nap but stimulated in a surge of brash confidence. “Did you just give me a love potion, Greengrass? You know all you have to do is ask.” 

She rolled her eyes, “It’s an Inhibition Suppressant, it relaxes you and allows your most inner feelings dominate. I suppose I'm not the intended target for your flirting but I’ll entertain it.” 

She scooted closer and forced Draco to put his arm around her shoulders.  

“There, there,” She teased, “That wasn’t so hard was it.” 

Draco nearly blurted out other things that could be hard but stopped himself from being cheeky.  

“So why didn’t you ask him?” 

“Hm?”  

“Weasley?” Draco asked, “Your sister asked Goyle. Maybe it’s a family trait to be bold, who knows? He could have been floored.” 

She shrugged and looked over the crowd in hopes of finding him. He was an easy target with his ridiculous getup and irritable face. He didn’t seem taken with his own date, much less that Hermione was having the time of her life somewhere on the dance floor with his Quidditch hero.  

“He obviously fancies Granger. Pity he doesn’t know it yet,” She wistfully sighed softly before leaning in, “Pity you as well.” 

Draco groaned, “Please stop.” 

“I will,” She promised, “But only if you let me say that whatever happened that shifted your perspective, I hope you are able to allow yourself to explore it. No matter how it ends, the worst we can do is deny ourselves of knowing.” 

Confused that Draco had been instructed not to engage but also, now, advised not to deny himself the experience, he thought perhaps it was better to face that problem another time. Despite his lowered inhibition, he knew better than to be bold towards the wrong person.  

Although, the idea of stealing Hermione and feeling her body pressed up against his was tempting.  

It didn’t stop Draco from imagining it was Hermione, instead of Daphne, he was dancing with. The rest of the dance went better than he expected when half of the effects of the suppressant wore off. Daphne was great at helping Draco to not care and enjoy himself, even if it was for a moment.  

They mingled with some of Draco’s friends and he tried his best to include Daphne into the picture despite her apprehension. His friends had seen her as a ‘fridged bitch’ since their first year and it was probably a hard title to shake off when she never said much.  

“Painfully shy with some people,” She explained with a weary smile looking over at Astoria who looked mildly disgusted that Goyle was holding her hand. Astoria wasn’t much help to her sister’s aid, so Draco jumped in.  

“Well there isn’t a lot of decent girls in our year,” Draco admitted, “Perplexing when Millicent was public supporting Pansy but would take any chance to feel me up.” 

Daphne’s mouth hung open, as well as the others in the group.  

Zabini turned to his own date, a fifth year Ravenclaw named Georgianna Ashe. 

“Scandalous.” Zabini let out a light laugh, tipping the small vile that Daphne gave him to slip in his own drink. A few minutes later the entire group was very much jolly and thankful for the small token from Daphne. 

By the time midnight neared, the songs were slowing down, and Draco slowly made his way out of the Great Hall with Daphne. She claimed her feet hurt and was tired out for the night; Draco thought it was her way to leave him first before he had to meet with McGonagall before departing.  

They stood there ignoring the very annoyed looking sprig of mistletoe that had been following them out of the Great Hall. It shook as if it was on its last desperate plea. Daphne let out a small laugh.  

“Until next time, Draco,” Daphne jokingly said, giving Draco a light peck on the cheek, “Thank you for not being the worst date.” 

“Likewise.”  

She smiled brightly as she ascended back up the steps while the mistletoe drifted sadly off, as if it wasn’t the kiss it was expecting.  

Draco didn’t waste another second thinking of that mistletoe, as he looked for McGonagall to notify her that he was ready to set off.  

When he did find her, McGonagall informed him that his things were taken to Hogsmeade already and she just needed the approval of Dumbledore to escort him out of Hogwarts grounds.  

She scurried away as Draco stood alone for a moment in the lobby outside of the Great Hall. He had only been alone for what felt like a full minute when a screaming match caught his attention. Of course, if it sounded like cats and dogs, it must have been the latest spat between Granger and Weasley.  

“Next time there’s a ball pucker up the courage and ask me before someone else does,” She turned red in the face, her eyes were glassy, “And not as a last resort!” 

Ron and his ancient musty getup (Daphne insisted it was vintage), stuttered back up the stairs with Harry trying to pull him away from the tension.  

“They get scary when they’re older-” 

“Ron, you spoil everything!” She shouted back at the two huddled boys as they scampered away. Hermione collapsed at the steps of the stairs and placed her face in her hands. It only took a quick second for her to wipe away her frustrated tears and become composed. She could have fooled Draco if it wasn’t for her raw tear-stained cheeks.  

His hands turned into angry balls of fist, half from seeing her so upset and the other wanting to desk Weasley in the face for making her upset. Draco wanted to ask if she was okay, but he knew he would possibly make the situation worse. Instead, he continued to watch.  

She had fully intended to step back into the Great Hall but it was as if a string held her back and she stopped herself from taking another step. Not fully ready to go back in, she paced around furiously back and forth until she realized she had an audience of one.  

Her face fell at the sight of Draco, hands in his pockets to hide his fist and leaning his left shoulder against the wall. 

“How much did you see?” She asked meekly.  

He shrugged, “Enough?” 

She opened her mouth as if she wanted to explain it away but, really, what was there to explain? She didn’t need to, not to Draco anyways. It seems like she also came to the same conclusion but kept on opening her mouth as if she couldn’t help herself.  

“Mr. Malfoy?” 

The unmistakable voice of Professor McGonagall pulled his focus past Hermione, up the staircase where Professor McGonagall was at the top.  

“Hurry along and follow me!” 

Draco looked back at Granger and wordlessly approached her, having to pass her to reach McGonagall. He didn’t intend to say anything to Hermione. Not even a polite goodbye, but a few steps up the stairs, Draco felt an intense need to grip the banister as if I needed to stop himself.  

“I meant what I said,” He admitted, finally turning to face Hermione, “Before. Hermione.” 

Her face broken with the weight of a spoiled night, furrowed her brows in confusion. Draco was thankful the suppressant he took was not at its full strength because who knows what he would have admitted to her. 

“Before?” She repeated, her voice shaky. 

He nodded, feeling his heart wanting to punch its way out of his chest. Draco didn’t want to see her reaction when she put the pieces together because by the time he reached McGonagall, he had made up his mind on one of the many things that plagued his existence.  

That was the last time he would take a suppressant around Granger again.